January 20, 2003
Clean sheets mean a lot
It's a little strange to have a party of mostly strangers at your house, but it just ends up seeming like a bunch of really cool people came in off the street because your house seemed like the place to be. I say this, but I didn't talk to many of them, as I hid myself in the kitchen making this:
The orange icing and the glorious display of green coconut grass are due to the wonder that is Molly. (What you cannot see, and which is also due to Molly, is the pinker-than-thou inside of the cake layered with the orange-you-jealous-it-wasn't-your-birthday frosting.) There are so many candles because you have to have that many for a Winsome Roller Skater and a Sexy Periodicals Librarian to blow them out.
After awhile, there were plenty of people that I did know and that meant dancing. It also meant waffles at 2:30 in the morning, supplemented by the sausage and eggs that Patti just happened to have in her scooter.
Everyone left round about 4am and I was thinking happy thoughts while washing the dishes until I heard a strange noise. Ghost? Monster? Rat Goblin? (Serious considerations, given the assumed history of our house.) Turned out to be Zulauf, recently booted from Gavin's couch. He left, I locked the door, and went down into the ScaryScary Basement to fetch my freshly washed sheets.
There is nothing more satisfying than ending an evening of bright eyes, wine glasses, skirt-flipping, and cake than by crawling into clean, smell-good sheets.
(Okay, yes, there are a couple of things. But clean sheets are really great.)
Posted by Ida at January 20, 2003 09:58 AM